Two Roads Diverged in a Wood
by CrestfallenCatharsis
Summary: Two strangers meet in a forest trail - one on the run from a dangerous stalker, the other on the run from their past. At the end of their twisted path lies only calamity. For SoMa Week 2017! Rated M for dark subject matter and possible graphic depictions of violence. TRIGGER WARNING: This story deals with the topic of abuse. Read at your own discretion.
1. Trouvaille

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any of its characters-they belong to Atsushi Okubo. Also, warning: This story contains subjects of physical/sexual abuse. If this is a sensitive topic for you, I suggest not reading. Thank you and please be safe. SoMa Week Day 6: Promise. (This will be a series and it'll make more sense why this prompt goes along with it as more chapters are released!)**

 **XxX**

He was once told every cloud has a silver lining. Well, he was never one for optimism, and these clouds looked more gray than silver to him.

"What's up with the weather today? Geez..." Soul grumbled as he filled up his bottle of water from the sink. His irritated gaze fell on the window, where outside the clouds seemed to just get closer and closer, darker and darker. Of course he picked today to start a jogging routine. He shut off the faucet and twisted the cover back on his bottle. He snatched his phone and ear buds off of the coffee table and shoved them in his pocket. Before he left, he leaned down to tie his sneakers. Preoccupied by his bad mood, he did not do a very good job of it. He exited his apartment, forgetting to lock the door behind him.

As he walked down the stairs and opened the door to the outside, a gush of wind hit him full force. He cursed, having to hold on to the door to keep it from going flying out of his hand and slamming against the wall. When it passed, he could tell his hair was a disheveled mess atop his head. He closed the door with a little more force than was meant.

Luckily for him, his apartment building was near a section of forest. Within it were trails, so Soul decided to take one, partly because it was convenient, partly because no one could give him strange looks regarding his white, wind whipped mop he tried to call hair. Stopping at the entrance of a trail, he put his bottle down and began to stretch. A shiver ran up his spine, and he silently spewed profanities at the clouds for blocking the warm sun. When he was finished, he popped in some ear buds and selected a jazz piece from his music library on his phone.

About ten minutes into his run, Soul regretted it. He was tired, and the shitty weather was not helping at all. He just wanted to go back home and watch some stupid T.V. show. He was only doing this because his friend, Black Star, beat him in a race and mocked him for being too slow.

"Tch. What a child," Soul complained to himself. His mood kept getting worse and worse. He looked to the speckled bits of sky between the leaves of the surrounding trees and saw nothing but gray. It didn't seem Mother Nature had any plans to help him today.

Another ten minutes passed and Soul had tripped on his shoelaces twice. He swore and kicked a tree the second time, Mother Nature be damned. He was convinced whatever God was out there was punishing him for, well, who knows what? He wasn't exactly an angel, that was for damn sure. Maybe it was for flipping that rude guy on the street the bird yesterday. Probably not; he had that coming.

Soul decided the only way this was going to get better is if he calmed himself down. He closed his eyes for a moment as he ran and listened to the music notes playing through his ear buds. That was a mistake, because just after he lost sight of his environment, Mother Nature decided to get her revenge and flipped _him_ the bird in the form of a root to his toes. He fell for the third time in less than thirty minutes.

"Damn it!" he shouted, sitting up. He ripped the buds from his ears and put his face in his hands. He felt something warm and wet on his skin, and when he pulled his hands away, he saw blood on his palms. He realized his face's impact on the hard dirt made his nose bleed. He sighed and looked up toward the sky, only to feel a drop of rain hit him between the eyes.

"That's it. I'm going home," he said as he lifted himself off the ground. He wiped the dirt from his pants and started walking at a quick pace in the direction he had come. A few angry steps later, he saw a pair of large green orbs staring at him from the side of the trail. He stared back for a moment, caught up in the vibrancy, before gravity brought him face to face with the ground yet again. Just as he was about to yell out another swear, he heard a soft voice calling out to him.

"Oh, my God. Are you okay?" it spoke. Soul flipped on his back to find the source. Above him, those clover eyes gazed worryingly into his. They almost blended into the color of the leaves on the trees above their head. He could see the wind was causing the leaves to shake violently, but the noise was muffled in his ears.

"You're bleeding," the person said again, their hand reaching out to wipe the blood from his earlier spill off of his face. He broke out of his trance and knocked the hand away.

"I'm fine," he replied sharply. He sat up and looked properly at the person who had prompted his fourth meeting with the earth. A girl with blonde pigtails was kneeling beside him, an annoyed look on her face.

"You're not fine, idiot. You're bleeding. God, just let me help you," she snapped. Soul grimaced, noting that she was not a very nice girl. She stood up and held out her hand. Despite the childish hairdo, she looked to be around his age.

"Look, I said I'm okay," he snarled. He got up, ignoring the assistance offered to him and wiped the blood on his sleeve. "Thanks for your concern."

He turned and started to walk away. After a moment, he heard footsteps behind him, but continued walking, knowing it was only her. He thought she'd give up eventually. He was wrong.

"Would you quit following me?" he seethed. He stopped in his tracks and spun around to face her. Just as he was about to bark at her some more, there was a low rumble of thunder and rain began to pour down on them. Forgetting about the girl, he ran as fast as he could to get home and out of the storm. Fortunately, his apartment building was close.

"Phew," he said once he got under the shelter of the small roof over the entrance. He slapped his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. He heard someone else beside him breathing heavily along with him and shifted his eyes over in the direction it was coming from.

There was the girl, now holding a book in one hand, standing next to him.

"What the hell? Did you follow me all the way to my house?" he hollered at her. She held her pointer finger up to his face to signal for him to wait, still trying to catch her breath. This annoyed Soul more, and he smacked her hand down, causing her to flinch.

"Why are you following me?" he asked sternly. The girl finally stood up straight and stared him down.

"First of all," she began. "I was never following you. That trail is a dead end, so I was just going the only way I could to get out of the woods."

"Okay, but-"

"Second of all," she continued. "How could I have possibly known this was your house? We just met, and besides, this was the closest place nearby with shelter from the storm."

Soul squinted his eyes at her and furrowed his brow. Then, he took a deep breath and calmed himself down.

"Whatever. Just go home, okay?" he said to her.

"Fine," she scoffed. Soul shook his head, then turned the knob of the door handle and entered the building.

When he reached the base of the steps, he took one last look out the small window in the door. He didn't know what to expect, but there she still was, shoulders hunched and shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She was hugging herself, hands rubbing up and down her arms to create warmth. Her head turned side to side as if she were looking for something, her soaked pigtails slapping her neck. Shit.

"Come in," he sighed, holding the door open. The girl's face lit up instantaneously, then she hurried through the entrance. He led her to the stairwell, climbing three sets before coming into a brightly lit hallway. Soul looked back at the blonde behind him. She was inspecting the place with a happy smile. He rolled his eyes.

"Here's my..." he trailed off as they neared his door. It was open. He remembered he hadn't locked it. He rushed over to it and looked inside.

"Shit!" he shouted. His belongings were all over the place. He bolted around the apartment, checking all the places he kept his valuables. After his search, it appeared that his gold watch was stolen, half of his records were gone, and the expensive leather jacket he'd saved up for for months was missing from his closet.

"What happened here?" the girl questioned as she poked her head through the doorway.

"I was robbed," Soul groaned, defeated. He dropped onto his couch and ran his hands through his tangled hair. Today was officially the worst. He put his middle finger up to the ceiling, hoping God would see it.

"Shouldn't you call the police?" she asked as she sat on the couch beside him.

"I don't see why. They didn't take anything the police could use to track them down with," he answered. For a minute, they both sat in silence.

"Agh! Today couldn't get worse!" he burst out, jumping up from the couch. "First, the weather sucks, then I get a bloody nose, then I meet you, and now this."

"Huh? What do you mean 'you met me'? I've only been trying to help," the girl retorted, standing up to take a step toward him as if to challenge him to a fight. They stared at each other for a second, noses an inch apart and rage in both of their eyes, when suddenly a bright flash of lightning and a loud crack of thunder interrupted their quarrel. The lights went out and they were standing in pitch black darkness.

"Oh, great," Soul muttered. The girl said nothing. He left the room to find anything he could use to light his apartment. The girl sat back down on the couch, arms crossed against her chest.

"Do you want help or would you think I was stalking you?" she shouted to him from the other room. Soul clenched his fists. He was positive veins were visibly swelling on his forehead. Damn, this chick could infuriate him. He thought maybe it would have been better for his blood pressure to leave her outside. He kept looking around and eventually discovered a flashlight in the cabinet under the kitchen sink and half a dozen candles in the bathroom closet. A container of matches was hidden behind a cereal box on the kitchen counter.

"Here," he said, offering the girl the flashlight. She took it, turned it on, and shined it around the room. Soul set up the candles around the apartment, placing two in the living room with the girl. After he was finished, he came back and sat in a chair opposite of her.

"Look, I'm sorry," he began. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm just having a really bad day."

The girl looked him up and down with an irritated look before finally accepting his apology. "It's fine. I get it," she said. "I'm Maka, by the way."

"Soul."

"Well, Soul, you still have blood on your face," Maka said as she got up and looked around, the light of the device in her hand following the path of her head turns. She eventually discovered the bathroom, went in, and came back with a facecloth.

"Give me your water bottle," she demanded, her hand out, palm up, waiting for him to comply. He picked the bottle up from its resting place on the floor and placed it in her hand. She twisted the cap off, covered the opening with the cloth, and tilted the bottle upside down.

"I can do this myse-"

"Shut up," Maka snapped at him. She knelt down in front of him so they were eye level, took his face in one hand, and began working to wipe away the blood with the other. Soul winced at times, but Maka kept going. Soul moved his gaze around so he didn't end up staring at her and making things awkward, but that quickly backfired. His eyes soon found their way to her white, soaked, button-up shirt. The fabric was just wet enough that the pattern of her bra was showing through.

"Whoa, your nose suddenly started to bleed again. I though it had stopped..." Maka said, surprised.

"Okay, I think I can take care of this," Soul spluttered, taking the cloth from her grasp and rushing to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He held the damp cloth to his nose, taking deep breaths as it soaked up the fresh blood. He returned fairly quickly, sitting back down on the chair. Maka was back on the couch, unable to see the pink covering his cheeks.

"Thanks for the help," he said, his voice cracking at the last word. He was purposefully not looking at her. Maka nodded, then shifted her gaze down to her hands. Soul noticed the book on the couch next to her.

"Were you reading out there?" he asked her. Maka nodded again. "Sorry about your book. It's probably all wet," he continued. She shrugged. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind earlier, but now she was being awfully quiet. Soul sighed, then reached into his pocket to check if his phone was all right. It was empty. He panicked, frantically searching all of his pockets in his sweatpants and sweatshirt. All of them were empty.

"Of course," he whispered. He looked out his window at the storm as another booming thunderclap filled the air. He knew he'd probably have to buy a new phone.

"Hey," Maka spoke. "Do you have any clothes I could borrow?"

Soul's face turned as red as the blood he'd just cleared off of it.

"S-Sure. Just give me a second," he stuttered. He got up and went to his bedroom to grab a pair of blue sweatpants and a black t-shirt, being careful to avoid another white shirt incident. He returned to the living room and gave her the clothes, still keeping his eyes elsewhere. She took them and went into the bathroom. Soul realized he should probably change too or he might catch a cold, so he returned to his room to get another pair of sweatpants and t-shirt and began to remove his soggy attire.

"Hey, Soul. Should I just leave my wet clothes hanging on the-" Maka stopped. Soul had not closed his door, so Maka walked in on him just as he had pulled his pants down to his feet. The flashlight in her hand was shining directly at him and his heart-pattern boxers. They looked at each other, their faces gradually heating up like a pot of water set to boil on a stove.

"I'm sorry! The door was open so I thought-" she stammered, turning around and closing the door behind her.

"T-That was my fault. Don't worry about it," he managed to say back.

"So m-my clothes?"

"Just hang them on the shower rod."

"Okay. G-G-Got it."

Soul heard her footsteps get quieter as she made her way back to the bathroom. He hadn't moved from his position, his fingers still gripping the belt of his wet pants. He processed what had just happened, taking a few minutes to let himself get over the embarrassment. After successfully changing without any more accidents, he brought his wet garments to the bathroom to hang up. However, when he turned into the doorway he was greeted by the sight of Maka's bra swinging gently on the rod.

"Polka-dots..." Soul breathed. He shook his head, then proceeded to throw his clothes over the shower rod as far away from Maka's as possible.

When he entered the living room, Maka was fidgeting with a corner of her book. Soul gulped. He looked at the clock hanging on his wall.

"It's getting late and it doesn't look like the storm is going anywhere anytime soon. Maybe you should spend the n-night here," Soul offered. He didn't know what he was saying anymore.

There was a pause before Maka replied. "I'd hate to impose..." she trailed off.

"Are you kidding? There's no way I'm letting you go back out there," he insisted. Another pause, this one longer than the first, then she nodded reluctantly. He felt relieved, although he wasn't sure why. "You can sleep in my bed. I'll take the couch."

Maka snapped her head up at him. "No, that's okay. I can sleep here," she chirped, patting the couch with her hand.

"Nah, that wouldn't be cool of me to let you sleep on that lumpy thing," he said. He was way past trying to be cool at this point. "Come on."

This time the silence was almost never-ending. Soul watched as she fiddled with her book some more, the flimsy pages falling victim to her anxious fingers.

"Okay," she finally agreed. Together, they shuffled down the hall to his room. "Goodnight, Soul," she murmured before closing the door.

"Goodnight."

Soul walked back to the living room, grabbed a blanket splayed over the arm of the couch, lay down, and fell asleep. The polka-dot pattern of Maka's bra filled his thoughts as he drifted off.


	2. Don't Leave (Gone)

Soul woke in the middle of the night with the need to use the bathroom. He groaned, the consequence of his current sleeping arrangement fully hitting him like a hard blow to the spine. He removed the blanket from his chest, scuffled to the bathroom, did his business, and left. Just as he was turning to go back to the couch, he heard a noise coming from his bedroom. He drew closer to figure out what the sound could be. Unable to discern it, he eventually got so close that his ear was pressed against the door.

"No..." Soul heard Maka whimper, followed by a series of sniffles.

"Maka?" Soul opened the door slightly and called out to her in a quiet voice. There was no reply. He pushed the door so that he could fit his head inside.

"Maka?" he tried again. Still, she did not respond to him. Soul wondered if this was the right thing to do. After all, this was a girl he just met. She could be a murderer for all he knew and he was walking right into a trap. Somehow, he thought this unlikely.

He tiptoed over to the bed where she was laying. The rain had stopped and the clouds had disappeared, revealing a bright, full moon. The light shone through the bedroom window and illuminated the area enough to be able to see Maka's face. Her eyes were closed and her face was contorted in pain, glistening lines running down her cheeks. It occurred to Soul that she was crying in her sleep.

"I'm sorry...I..." she sobbed. She was talking in her sleep, too. Soul sat in his desk chair across from her, not sure of what to do.

"Stop... It hurts..." she continued to speak. Soul noticed she was curling in on herself; her knees were against her chest and her whole body was tense. She gripped the pillow with intense force.

"Don't leave...I'm sorry..." she cried. Soul slowly lifted his hand, wishing he knew how to help her. He pulled it back when she suddenly let out a wail. He wanted to do something, but this seemed like a private issue, and private issues weren't exactly territory for strangers.

"It's okay, Maka. I won't leave," Soul said softly, hoping she could hear him. He lifted his hand again, and this time set it gently on her hand squeezing the pillow. Her grasp loosened a little. Her face relaxed.

Soul stayed beside her all night. He fell asleep in the chair, his hand remained rested on hers. When he woke up, she was still there, sleeping peacefully. He stared at her for a moment, watching her body rise and fall in tandem with her breathing. She was no longer scrunched up like before, but he could see the leftover remains of a dried streak of tears on her face. Eventually, he took his hand away and slowly got out of his chair, his muscles screaming at him for sleeping in such a position. He stretched, then quietly moved to the kitchen where he began to cook breakfast.

"What are you doing?" Maka yawned, standing in the doorway of the kitchen some time later. She was rubbing her eye and her hair, no longer in pigtails, was messy and stuck out in strange places. The clothes Soul had given her were noticeably too big for her. The neck hole of the shirt leaned to one side and exposed her shoulder, and the sweatpants were bunched up at her feet, only allowing her toes to poke out of the front.

"Making breakfast, sleepyhead" he answered. Maka tilted her head in confusion, then reached up and felt her hair. Her face turned a bright shade of pink before turning the other way to make an attempt at fixing her mangled do. When she finished she turned back around and took a seat at the breakfast bar, a road of red still traveled over the bridge of her nose.

"What are you making?" she inquired. There was still a section of hair that jutted out at the top of her head. He was doing his best not to chuckle.

"Eggs. There's a coffee machine over there if you want some," Soul said, pointing his spatula in the direction of the machine.

"Just eggs? Nothing else?" she asked as she hopped off of her stool to grab a cup.

"And coffee," Soul responded smugly. Maka shot him a look. She selected a yellow mug from his cabinet and started a pot of coffee. As she was waiting, they both stood in silence, the only noises came from the sizzling eggs and the buzzing of the coffee machine. Soul fiddled with the eggs in the pan and thought about if he should bring up last night's events.

"Hey, Mak-"

"I think I'll head out after breakfast," she interjected. Soul stopped messing with his eggs and looked at her. Her back was facing him as she poured her coffee. It was then that he noticed a dark spot peeking out from under the neckline of the shirt around her shoulder blade.

"Maka, what's tha-"

"Hey, it actually smells pretty good," she interrupted him again. She had made her way over to him and was sniffing the eggs, coffee in hand.

"Uh, thanks," he said, looking her over to see if he could find any other of those dark spots. He couldn't.

"Looks finished. Let's eat!" she cheered. Soul transferred the eggs to two plates and set them at the breakfast bar. Soul purposefully set his food on the side of her where he saw the spot. As they were eating, he glanced at her back whenever he got the chance to try to inspect it further. Since he was closer, he got a better look at it. The spot seemed to be fairly large from what he could tell. It was a deep shade of purple and seemed as if it took up a big chunk of her back.

"Maka, are you hurt?" he blurted out as she was shoving a large bite of egg into her mouth. She froze. Her expression turned dark for a moment, but she quickly reverted back.

"No, why do you ask?" she said as she smiled up at him. She nonchalantly fixed her shirt so that the purple mark was no longer visible. She clearly didn't want to mention it, but if she was hurt Soul wanted to help. After all, she helped him with his injured nose at least a little bit.

"Well, it looks like there's a bruise-"

"Mmm, that was delicious! Thanks for the food," she blurted. "Do you mind if I use your shower?"

"Uh, no, but-"

"Great! Thanks," she cut him off, a friendly smile plastered on her face. She placed her dishes in the sink and scurried off to the bathroom. Soul sighed, finished his breakfast, and went to the sink to wash. He noticed she'd only eaten half of her eggs.

"Does she not want to talk about it that much?" Soul grumbled. He threw away the remaining food and began to fill the sink with water. He heard the slap of bare feet on the tiled bathroom floor for a few minutes, then the whoosh of the shower turning on.

The entire fifteen minutes she spent in there, Soul couldn't stop thinking about the whole situation. First off, this was a total stranger he just happened to bump into, and in the middle of the forest, no less. Now, she had stayed a night in his recently ransacked apartment and cried in her sleep in his bed. Her words kept playing over and over in his brain like a record skipping on its track: _'It hurts... Don't leave... I'm sorry...'_. He searched his mind for possible dreams she could have been having, but the information he owned was so minimal it could be just about anything. The image of her, crying and scared, seared into his thoughts, along with the gruesome-looking bruise. He tried to piece it together. He wondered why he cared so much.

"Okay," she said as she came back into the room, startling him out of his contemplation. She set the clothes Soul had lent her on the kitchen counter, all completely folded. "I'm off!"

Soul barely had the chance to say anything other than the first syllable of her name before she was out the door. He caught a glimpse of another bruise on the side of her thigh under the hem of her skirt as she spun to wave him goodbye. Then she was gone, just like that. He stood there a moment staring at the door, mouth open, the unsaid words and questions leaving a foul taste on his tongue. He looked back down at the sink and realized he hadn't washed a single plate.

Soul brought his hands out of the soapy water, his fingers the wrinkled texture of raisins, dried them, and locked the door behind her. He took a sip of the coffee Maka had left on the counter, the sourness in his mouth turning to lukewarm bitterness as it forced the lingering thoughts down his throat.


	3. Stray

"Seen that mystery girl again?" inquired Black Star, focusing too much on his phone to look up.

"Nope. She must have gone to spend the night at some other unfortunate soul's house somewhere else," Soul replied. His mood was slightly foul due to Black Star banging on his door at seven in the morning on a Saturday to go to a new breakfast place that had just opened up in another town that was nearly a two hour's drive away. He truly was a child.

"Good morning! My name is Marie and I'll be your server today. Can I take your order?" a waitress said cheerily. Soul looked up from his menu and was taken aback for a second by the blonde hair spilling down her shoulders. Apparently, it showed on his face.

"I-Is something wrong?" the waitress asked, clearly uncomfortable from the way he was staring at her. Soul thought she might be self-conscious of the eye patch that covered her left eye, since she immediately lifted a hand toward it.

"Uh, no. Sorry, you just looked like someone I know for a second," Soul responded. He could feel the heat rising to his ears. "I'll just have a coffee, please."

"And I'll have the biggest stack of pancakes you can make!" Black Star shouted confidently. "Someone as big as me deserves a stack of pancakes just as big."

The waitress gave a weak laugh as she scribbled on her note pad. She said she'd be back with the order and hastily left behind the kitchen doors.

"Dude, what was that about?" Black Star chuckled. "'You looked like someone I know'?"

"Man, shut up," Soul snapped at him. Black Star shrugged and returned to his phone. Soul leaned over the table a bit to try to see what was taking up so much of his attention. It looked like a samurai game. Soul sighed, leaned back in his chair, and gazed out of the window. It was a sunny day, which was good for him because he knew later this evening he would have to go for another run. He did not want a repeat of last week, especially the part where he invited an odd stranger into his apartment.

"Maka..." Soul whispered to himself. He wondered where she was now. He knew she wasn't a resident of his town because he had never seen her before, and in his town, that was a tough thing to achieve, especially for a girl like her. The thought of her stubbornness made him grimace.

He switched his attention from the outside world to his backpack. Inside was Maka's book, which she had left behind at his place in her rush to leave. He didn't notice it when she was there, but the book was a guide to survival for runaways. That was the dead giveaway. He tried to come up with an idea of what she could have been running from, but nothing in particular came to his mind. He eventually gave up, questioning why he cared so much in the first place. He assumed she was probably long gone by now anyway, never to be seen again.

"Hi there! So sorry for the wait. Marie's shift just ended, so I'm here to take her place. I'm Olivia, your new-" she cut herself off when she saw Soul's face.

"Maka?" Soul questioned in disbelief. His eyes scanned over her whole body, as if her face wasn't proof enough. Her clover eyes stared into his blood-red ones. Her expression, which had hardened when she noticed him, changed in the blink of an eye like a light switch had just been flipped on.

"Sorry, I think you have the wrong person. My name is Olivia," she said. A gigantic smile formed on her lips, a twitch in one corner of her mouth. Soul was about to argue her, but her eyes were not as friendly as her smile and shot daggers at him, daring him to say anything further. His jaw snapped back up to connect his teeth together with a _clack_.

"Enjoy your meal!" she chirped as she placed the heaping pile of pancakes in front of Black Star and the steaming cup in front of Soul. She turned to leave and gave a brief wave as she rounded the corner, but not before shooting Soul one last challenging glare.

"This isn't even that big of a stack," Black Star grumbled, oblivious to the exchange that just went down. Soul said nothing in response. He held his gaze on the corner, still in shock. The ravenous sounds that emanated from the blue-haired boy sitting opposite of him snapped him back to reality. A glob of maple syrup flew across the table to meet with his cheek. Soul growled, angrily wiped the syrup off of his face with a napkin, then slumped back in his seat.

It was fair to pretend as if they didn't know each other-after all, they don't, really-but why change her name? He stole another glance at his bag, the book inside burning a hole in his thoughts. Could what she be running from require her to assume a different identity? If so, it must be pretty serious to go to such lengths, and if that were the case, was her real name even Maka, or was that a fake name, too? Who was this girl?

His coffee remained virtually untouched until the end of the meal.

"Thanks so much. Have a nice day!" Maka said as she handed them their receipt. Soul continued giving her suspicious looks, but he knew better now not to say anything.

After leaving the restaurant and saying goodbye to Black Star, Soul decided to shop around for some things. He hopped in his car and drove around the town searching for any stores nearby, his eyes landing on an electronics shop. He had already purchased a new phone since his incident in the woods, but he had yet to buy ear buds. He also figured it would be wise to get a protective case for his brand new cell.

"Welcome to Shock Value! Can I help you find anything?" a salesperson came up to him and asked as he walked in. He was bald, save for two spikes of black hair gelled out to the sides of his head. He wore round glasses that made him look extremely nerdy.

"Yeah. Um, where are the phone cases?" Soul replied.

"I know just the person who can help you. Please wait one moment," the guy said perhaps a little too enthusiastically. He returned seconds later with a pink-haired girl in tow.

"Can I help you?" she said, a twinge of annoyance lining her pleasant tone of voice.

"Phone cases?" Soul repeated himself. The girl sighed, her welcoming facade disappearing as she turned her head to face the boy, still there, staring at her with an expression one could only explain as puppy love.

"Ox, you know where the phone cases are. Why did you come get me?" she spat through gritted teeth.

"My dear Kim, I thought your expertise would be better suited here," the salesperson, Ox, praised her in an affectionate manner. The girl pinched the bridge of her nose, a light shade of pink to match her hair color covered her cheeks.

"Right. Follow me, sir," she said to Soul, trying to keep up her polite conduct. Soul felt sort of bad for her. She led him over to a wall lined with rows of cases and asked if he needed help picking one. He pulled out his phone to show her the model and she directed him to the corresponding cases. Soul thanked her and she left.

"Have you seen this girl?" a man's voice blurted out. Soul jumped and whipped his head around to find the source of the noise. He was greeted by a piece of paper centimeters from his face. He blinked, stepped back to get a better look at the paper, and made out what was on it. There was no mistaking those blonde pigtails and leaf-green eyes-it was a photograph of Maka.

"Have you seen her?" the voice repeated, this time with more force. Soul set his gaze on the holder of the photo and was for a moment alarmed. The guy's face seemed more frustrated and enraged than concerned for the whereabouts of the girl. The guy's eyes had a wild fieriness to them. A bead of sweat dripped down Soul's forehead.

"No, I haven't. Sorry," he lied, deciding he did not trust him. The man cursed and stomped away, stopping to interrogate any passersby. Soul watched as he furiously spoke to people, shoving the picture in their faces and eventually storming off. He kept a wary eye on him until he left the store.

"Thank you for shopping at Shock Value. Please come again," the checkout lady said. Soul gave a polite smile and took the plastic bag from her hand. Once back in his car, he opened up the box and fixated his new case on his phone. Satisfied, he started up his car and made his way back home. He was thirty minutes from his apartment building when he realized he forgot to buy ear buds.

 **XxX**

Four days later, Soul found himself driving back to the breakfast place. Ever since his encounter with the disturbing man in the electronics store, he fell asleep each night worrying for Maka's safety. It was bad enough that she was a runaway, now she had a terrifying guy hunting her down. He needed to know if she was okay.

"Sorry. Olivia quit two days ago. I haven't seen her since," a waitress-their former one, Marie-told him.

"Did she mention why?" he questioned. She shook her head. He furrowed his brow, thanked her, and left. That was his only lead to find her. She was gone. Again.

When he returned home, he heard a high-pitched sound coming from the small gap between his apartment building and the cafe next door. Curious, Soul decided to investigate. He walked over to the gap and peeked his head around the corner of the building. At first, he saw nothing, but then he heard it again. He looked down, and there at his feet was a cardboard box with small holes poked randomly into the top. Soul squatted down and lifted the cover off of the box.

" _Meow_ ," a purplish-black cat mewed up at him. It did not have a collar and Soul noted that it had a scrawny figure and filthy coat of fur.

"So, you're a stray, huh?" Soul spoke to it. The cat meowed in response. He sighed, not entirely sure of what to do. He knew his landlord didn't allow pets in the apartments, but he couldn't just leave it outside to starve to death.

"Okay, I'll take you inside, but you have to be quiet," Soul whispered, holding a finger up to his mouth. The cat meowed again, and this time he swore it smiled at him. Soul picked up the box and moved quickly by the landlord's office. "I'd hate for you to become a part of his collection," he mumbled to the cat as he climbed the stairs. The thought of his landlord made his blood run cold.

He'd only seen the landlord once before, and it was not a good experience. The man gave Soul the creeps. The guy was freakishly tall, and his hair was already grey despite looking like he was in his early thirties in every other regard. He wore large round glasses that accentuated his small, nightmare-inducing eyes. The strangest part was the giant screw headband he adorned on his head, which he reached up and turned with his hand every so often as if it were actually real. After spending more than five minutes with him, Soul began to wonder if maybe it was.

Soul had once gone down to ask about a leaky pipe under the bathroom sink in his apartment. After knocking on the office door and getting no response, he tried the doorknob. It opened, and the blood in Soul's face drained away when he peered in. Inside were tons of animals: animals on the desk, the bookshelf, the walls, and even hanging from the ceiling. His landlord had an obsession with taxidermy. It wasn't until he saw the multiple scalpels in the pencil holders that he realized these were not bought, but made.

"Can I help you?" a bored voice said behind him. A shiver ran down Soul's spine before he slowly craned his head around to see his landlord standing there, a hand on the screw on his head. His pale yellow eyes looked as if they were staring straight into his soul.

"Um, my sink is leaking?" he asked more than stated. The landlord pushed passed him into his office, closing the door behind him, and leaned against his desk. He then proceeded to pull a scalpel from his jacket pocket, which to Soul looked more like a lab coat than a regular jacket. Soul's heart stopped when the man threw the sharp metal object in his direction faster than he could dodge. It made a harsh _thud_ as it hit the door behind him. It barely missed his ear, but it didn't miss the dartboard hanging on the door. Bullseye. Soul didn't stick around long after that.

"Alright, here we are," Soul said as he unlocked the door. He brought the cat to his bathroom and placed it in the bathtub. After opening the box and setting it free, he brought it a can of tuna from his kitchen cupboard and a small bowl of water. The cat dug into the tuna as if it had never eaten before in its life.

The rest of the day Soul spent going around town to buy things for her. He had taken her to the veterinarian-where he learned that she was a female-and received a lot of information from the vet about what to buy and do next: cat food, a litter box, toys, a collar, and, begrudgingly, a bath.

"Come here, you little shit!" Soul hollered at the cat, who was running as far away from him and the tub filling with water as possible. He ran after her, a toy in either hand as an attempt to persuade her. They had made multiple rounds around his apartment before Soul finally caught her trying to hide under the covers of his bed. He tiptoed toward the bed, not wanting to startle her and begin that tiring chase again.

"Gotcha!" he shouted as he ripped away the sheets and scooped up the cat in his arms. He rushed to the bathroom, the animal writhing in his hold, and placed her in the water. At first, she struggled, sending soapy water flying all over the place, but she eventually gave in and let Soul scrub away the dirt and grime from her body. By the end, Soul could tell that she felt a lot better.

"Alright, now stop being obnoxious," he grumbled as he wiped her dry with a towel. The cat happily purred, then walked off to bat at a mouse toy laying on the floor. Soul began to fix up the bathroom.

During this, he started to wonder why he took in the cat. Normally, he would have given her to an animal shelter or something and let them deal with her. He knew his landlord didn't allow any pets, so he questioned why he decided to go through all that trouble just for a mingy feline. He had spent so much money on her, and he went out of his way to bring her into his apartment to care for her. There was an event this reminded him of, a certain pigtailed individual coming to mind. He thought perhaps he was doing this as a way to compensate for not doing more for Maka. As he turned on the shower to drain the dirt from the bottom of the tub, the image of her photograph flashed in his mind. Then, the man who held the photo. Soul's grip on the washcloth in his hand tightened.

After finishing up in the bathroom, Soul retrieved the collar he purchased from the bag and put it on the cat. It had a silver charm hanging on the front, which Soul took the liberty (and spent the extra money) to have his address engraved onto it. She rubbed against his leg before returning to her toy.

"I guess I should give you a name," he murmured. He put a finger to his chin and tried to come up with something.

"Blair?" he said, an actress he liked popping into his head. She was known for her purple hair, and the cat's hair gave off a violet sheen. She was also praised for her big breasts, but Soul didn't want to associate the two. He nodded, pleased with his choice, then looked to his clock.

"Time for bed already..." he commented, a yawn escaping his mouth. He filled up a glass with water and had a bite of leftover sushi in his fridge. Then, after brushing his teeth, he scuffled to his room, Blair following close behind. He changed out of his jeans and into a pair of sweatpants before flopping into bed. Blair curled up into a ball at his feet. They both drifted off to sleep, Soul concerned for Maka's safety yet again.

 **XxX**

He woke to the incessant knocking on his apartment door. Still drowsy, he ambled over to the noise, grumbling and scratching the back of his head as he went. His wall clock read four o'clock. Whoever was at his door was in one hell of a panic to get to him, because they weren't just knocking politely like a normal person. Whoever it was was banging so hard and so loud Soul thought his door was going to fly off of its hinges.

"Wha-" he began to shout as he swung it open, but was instantly cut off by someone flipping around to the other side of the door, closing it, and pressing their back against it as if to barricade it. Soul blinked, his hand still pointing outward from holding the door handle. He heard the ragged breathing of whoever was in front of him and looked down. His eyes widened.

"Maka?"


	4. Eggs and Coffee

Soul simply stood there, gawking at the sight in front of him. There, back against the door, was Maka. She looked like a mess: leaves and twigs protruded from her disheveled hair, with only a single pigtail hanging from the side of her head. Her clothing was completely ripped up and hung from her limp body like rags. Cuts and bruises lined her shaking limbs.

"What-" Soul tried to say, but was interrupted by Maka collapsing to the floor. Soul instinctually reached out to grab her to alleviate her fall, gripping her shoulders and dropping to the ground with her. Her face, which he saw much more clearly due to his closer proximity, was covered in dirt and more injuries save for two bare lines that ran down her cheeks. Soul winced when he saw fresh tears forming in her eyes as they stared numbly at his carpet.

"Maka, what happened to you?" he asked, gently pulling a leaf from her locks. She didn't respond, continuing to gaze at his floor. Soul lifted her arm around his shoulders and slowly raised her off of the ground. Her movements were limited and rough as they made their way over to the couch, causing Soul to stumble and run into things in the process. He set her down and wrapped a blanket around her before sitting in a chair in front of her.

"Maka, tell me what happened," he said in a soothing voice. He waited, but she still said nothing in return, her stare remaining fixated on the carpet. Soul brought his hand up to touch her chin, then lightly tilted her face upward to meet his gaze. A pain struck his chest when he saw her face; her eyes were vacant and dark, filling with tears as the rest of her expression stayed blank. It seemed as though she were looking right through him. He took his hand away.

"I'm going to bring you to bed," he spoke softly. He got to work taking off her muddy shoes, then put her arm around his shoulders again, letting the blanket fall off of her. They moved carefully to his room where Soul laid her on his bed.

"He found me," Maka said so quietly Soul almost didn't hear her as he was setting her down.

"Who found you?" Soul questioned, suddenly alarmed. The face of the man holding Maka's picture flashed in his mind.

"Did someone do this to you?" he asked, anger bubbling in his throat. Maka remained silent. Frustrated, he began pacing. A million questions and theories ran through his head per second. He asked himself why anyone would want to hurt Maka, who did, why she was running away, if she was running from whoever did this, did the man who had her photo do this, and if so, where was he now?

His pacing and train of thought came to an abrupt halt when he felt a tug on his shirt. He looked over to see Maka had reached her arm out and grabbed him. Her eyes now looked right at him instead of passing through.

"Help me," she said, her voice hoarse. Tears streamed down her face like mini waterfalls. Soul took her hand in his and knelt down beside her.

"I will, Maka," he told her. "I will. I promise."

 **XxX**

Soul woke sitting in his desk chair for the second time in two weeks. At first he was confused by where he was, but then the previous night's events came back to him when he felt a warm hand underneath his. He looked over at Maka, curled in a ball under the blankets. He noticed Blair had situated herself at the foot of the bed; the striking similarity between the way she and Maka slept made Soul almost laugh.

He removed his hand from Maka's and silently exited his room. He left the door open a crack, looking back at her sleeping face before going to the kitchen, smirking. The smile on his face disappeared fast when he saw the trail of muck leading from his apartment entrance to the couch. A look of concerned displeasure crossed his face as he relived what had happened in his mind. Trying to push the disconcerting thoughts out of his head, he retrieved cleaning supplies and began to scrub away the filth.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the bloodcurdling scream. Abandoning his rag he sprinted to his bedroom, shoulder ramming into the wall as he made an abrupt turn around a corner. Panting, he burst into the room. Before he could say anything, his words melted on his tongue when he saw Maka sitting up in the bed. She, too, was breathing heavily, a hand clutching the shirt at her chest. Sweat trickled down to her jaw, and her eyes looked forward, wide and terrified. For a moment, neither of them moved or spoke, their heavy puffs of breath filling the empty space.

"Maka..." Soul finally choked out. She whipped her head in his direction, clearly taken by surprise at his presence. Her stare was like a deer's caught in headlights.

"Maka, what happened? Why did you scream?" he asked, taking a step toward her. She leaned her shaking body away from him, making him stop in his tracks.

"It's just me-Soul. You remember, don't you?" he said, trying to put her at ease. She continued to look at him, shoulders hunched.

"I won't hurt you," he tried again, this time holding his hands up to show his defenselessness. Her shoulders slowly dropped. He took another step.

"Soul?" she questioned as though she didn't recognize who it was until now. She hesitantly scanned the room. "When did I get here?"

"Early this morning. You don't remember?" he replied. Maka scrunched her brows together.

"The last thing I remember..." she uttered, just as all the color drained from her face. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she flung the blankets off of her and rushed past Soul out the doorway. The unmistakable sound of someone retching into a toilet bowl permeated the air.

"Hey, are you sick?" he asked, knocking lightly on the bathroom door. The toilet flushed before she replied.

"No, I-I'm okay," she said. "I'm sorry for showing up here out of the blue."

"Oh, it's fine..."

"...I'm also sorry for throwing up in your toilet."

"Also fine. Are you sure you're okay?"

There was a long pause, then Soul heard shuffling from the other side of the door. Suddenly, Maka appeared in front of him as the door swung open. He noticed she had picked out all of the foliage from her hair and put it up into one singular ponytail.

"Yeah, don't worry about it," she spoke, a strained smile spread across her face. Soul scratched the back of his head, unsure of how to respond. He knew she was, in fact, not okay, and that she was lying, but he wasn't skilled with these types of interactions. The last time he talked to a distressed girl it was with Tsubaki-and she was only complaining about Black Star not studying enough. This was entirely new territory for him.

"Look, if you're in some kind of trouble, you can talk to me about it," he mumbled. His eyes found hers, which were large and green and looked at him with innocent confusion. Soul felt the tips of his ears getting warmer.

"O-Only if you want to, of course," he quickly added, averting his gaze. When he looked back at her, her expression was grim.

"It's nothing..." she murmured, her head drooping and the pink in her cheeks dissolving into pale skin. Soul kicked himself for making her feel worse.

"Well, I know we hardly know each other, but I wouldn't call it nothing," he persisted. Maka lifted her head and he thought he saw a glimmer in her eye, but it lasted no more than a split second. He was getting somewhere.

"I mean, your clothes are all ripped up, so that's obviously not nothing. Something definitely happened," he said. "And, if you want, I'll listen-"

"Why?" Maka blurted, fists clenched. Her bangs covered half her face, so Soul couldn't read her. Not that he really could either way.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

"Why are you saying this? We don't know each other," she replied calmly.

"Because..." he tried to answer, but his mind went blank. Why _was_ he saying this?

"I'm leaving. Sorry to intrude," Maka mumbled as she nudged past him to the living room. "Just forget I was ever here."

Soul could only watch, furiously trying to think of something to say, as she shoved her feet into her shoes and walked to the door. She had just reached for the door handle when Soul yelled out, "Because I care!"

She stopped, still as a statue with her fingers curled around the doorknob. He had surprised even himself saying that. So many other words flew in and out of his head, but those were not some of them. Soul stared at her back, waiting for a response. Her hand gradually returned to her side.

"Because I care. I care, and I don't know why. I've been worried about you ever since you first came here. Every night I wonder where you are and if you're okay and I just...care. I don't know how to forget you," he spoke. It was as if his mouth had begun speaking for itself, because he certainly had not planned to tell her that. He couldn't breathe.

"Alright," Maka said, turning around, her ripped skirt flaring around her thighs. Soul watched her expectantly. "But first, do you have some clothes I could borrow?"

Soul blinked, processing what the clover-eyed girl in front of him had just said. When it finally dawned on him that she had asked for a change of clothes, he nodded, picked out an orange tee and a pair of gray sweatpants, and placed them in her hands. As he waited for her to get dressed, he prepared two cups of coffee, finally letting out a breath.

"Thanks...again," she snickered. Soul handed her a steaming mug as she sat at the breakfast bar stool. He stood on the other side of the counter, leaning against the oven. He looked off in a different direction, not wanting to pressure her with his stare. He took a sip of coffee.

"It's my boyfriend."

Soul nearly spit out his drink at the word 'boyfriend'. He didn't exactly assume she _didn't_ have one, but it didn't make him feel right to hear her say she did have one either. He couldn't put his finger on it.

"Two years ago, in my senior year of college, we started dating," she continued. "And at the beginning it was great. He did what normal boyfriends do, I guess. You know, like getting me gifts, bringing me on dates, and all that stuff."

Soul nodded, the coffee burning a hole in his stomach. He thought back to his last date with a girl. She was blonde, like Maka, and they had great conversations about music, but she dumped him after a month to go be with some guy with three white stripes in half of his hair. Soul wasn't angry about it, he just thought the dude seemed kind of weird and questioned the girl's tastes.

"It gradually got stranger, though," Maka said, bringing Soul's attention back to her. "He started to get angry a lot, and he would break my things when we got into fights, which we often did because he got so irrationally jealous all the time."

He saw her grip on the mug in her hands tighten.

"He would take my phone without asking and go through it. After about a year, when I eventually changed the password for it, he yelled at me and demanded I tell him what it was. When I wouldn't..." she trailed off, her face contorted in a painful expression. Soul held his mug tighter, too, hatred seeping out of his pores at the words she spoke next.

"...he hit me."

He slammed his mug on the counter, coffee spilling out on impact and splashing all over the cream countertop. Maka jumped at the sound.

"That bastard. I'll kill him," Soul growled through gritted teeth, his voice low and intimidating. He was imagining strangling the man to death when he noticed Maka staring at him, intense fear in her eyes.

"Uh, sorry," he quickly sobered. It struck him that this was the exact behavior she was explaining to him. He ripped a number of paper towels from a roll and proceeded to wipe up the mess of coffee he had created. He then added, "You can continue."

"U-Um," Maka fumbled her words, her gaze directed on the cup in her hands. "Well, you can pretty much guess where it went from there. He would get really upset when I'd tell him I was going out with friends, so he told me things like 'if you love me, you won't go', but I tried reasoning with him. He went from sad to furious in a matter of seconds, accusing me of cheating on him and calling me gruesome names, and then..." She paused. "You get the picture."

He did. He got it a little bit too well, formulating images in his mind of that guy in the electronics store beating Maka. She was on the floor below him, her bloody, terror-stricken face looking up at him, begging for him to stop-

"It just kept getting worse. He monitored what I did so much that I started to just stay home because I was afraid of his reactions. He didn't let me talk with any of my friends, so I soon lost them all."

Soul thought back to what Maka had said in her sleep: ' _Don't leave_ '. He figured she must have been dreaming about that.

"At first, he'd only find excuses to hurt me a couple times a month, then once a week, until it happened just about every day," she continued. "Sometimes he would even-"

She stopped short, covering her mouth with her hand and choking back sobs. Soul placed a hand on the one she left on her mug, encouraging her with soft rubs of his thumb over her knuckles.

"H-He'd shove me on the bed and- I didn't want to, but-" she tried to say before letting out a wail. He felt her trembling under his touch. Suddenly, her puking episode earlier didn't seem so odd. His stomach lurched at the thought, too.

"You don't have to say anymore. I understand," he whispered to her, squeezing her fingers. He realized he was shaking as well, but his was caused by rage. "Why don't you stay here, until he loses your trail?"

"I can't," she protested. "He always finds me. Just last night he did this." She gestured at her injured body. "I don't want to drag you into it. What if you get hurt too?"

"Heh, you underestimate me. I'm stronger than I look," he replied, a smug grin on his face. Maka looked at him for a moment in surprised awe, tears forming tiny marbles at the corners of her eyes, then let out a chuckle.

"You sure are weird Mr. Soul-" she laughed. "Ah, I just realized I don't know your last name."

"It's Evans, but everyone calls me 'Eater'," he answered.

"Well, Mr. 'Eater', I'm Maka Albarn. It's a pleasure to meet you," she said cheerily, holding out her hand. Soul took his hand away from the one on her mug and reached over the counter to place it in her other one.

"Likewise," he said, giving it a solid shake, all suspicions of her real name lost. Now, he trusted her.

"So," she said as she released her grasp. "What's for breakfast?"

"Eggs."

"Just eggs?"

"And coffee."


End file.
